


Phichit and Yuuri Vs. Valentine's Day

by Lightningcatters (Phoeliac)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Asexual Phichit Chulanont, Fluff, Gen, Humour, M/M, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 05:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10690650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoeliac/pseuds/Lightningcatters
Summary: [Originally written for the 2017 tumblr yoi-secret-valentine's exchange.]Phichit and Yuuri have faced four Valentine's Days together. With mixed success.





	Phichit and Yuuri Vs. Valentine's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the 2017 tumblr yoi-secret-valentine's exchange, but only got around to posting it here now. Basically an excuse for fluff with my favourite ice-skating bros. Tweaked a little bit, but not much.
> 
> Apparently shameless fluff is all I do now?

**1) Such A Card.**

There was an envelope waiting on his pillow when he got back to the room. Yuuri paused, halfway through taking his coat off, and glanced around. Phichit wasn’t back from his classes yet, and there was nothing else out of place.

He dropped his bag and jacket at the end of his bed and swooped the envelope up, before dropping himself onto the mattress with a sigh.

It was pink, and he could feel bumps underneath it – whatever was inside had a raised surface. His name was written in excited, loopy letters. Yuuri felt a small smile began to worm its way across his face. He sank back into his pillows and flipped it over to open it. Yawning, he fingered the edges of the card and pulled. Whatever it was, it was a little too big for the envelope and resisted his attempts to carefully extract it.

He pulled harder, until there was a rip and -

\- and glitter fountained onto his chest.

Yuuri lay perfectly still, blinking at nothing, hands frozen on the paper. Shimmering specks floated like dust motes in his vision; he held his breath for a moment, in fear of drowning in the stuff.

After a few moments of careful breathing, he looked at the card in his hand. It was a collision of colour and sparkles. Whatever message it was meant to convey was lost in the glittery fray, so he opened it - the remaining glitter sliding out and coating his fingers as he did so.

Phichit’s handwriting took up half the page.

  
_yuuri!_  
_happy valentine’s day!_  
_i’m so glad you’re my roommate_  
_and i’m proud to call you my friend_  
_hope you like glitter!_  
_(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧_

 

Something tickled up Yuuri’s back, suffused warmth through him. He stared at the card, mouth opening and closing, as the letters became blurry.

The door burst open and Phichit barrelled in, coat and bags going separate ways. Yuuri jolted, glitter up-ending from his chest to his lap and bed sheets, and he spluttered under the weight of Phichit’s surprised stare as he sat upright. Phichit’s eyes darted between Yuuri’s face, the mess of glitter on his chest and lap, and the card in his hands.

Finally, he smiled.

“Yuuri! Did you like your valentine?”

Yuuri opened and closed his mouth once, twice. What could he possibly say to that?

Instead, he gestured helplessly at the mess still slipping and sliding over his bed sheets – not to mention himself.

“Glitter,” he said, for some reason breathless.

Phichit’s gaze softened into something like understanding. He nodded at Yuuri.

“Do you like it? I thought you’d like something different. And it was that or one of those cards that sings when you open it.” Phichit shuddered, apparently horrified by the notion.

Yuuri blinked.

“So much glitter, Phichit,” he cleared his throat, looked down and cast his eyes to his socked feet – his toes sparkled with each nervous flex – before continuing, “where did you even get this?”

The sound of movement had Yuuri shifting, and then Phichit’s weight dropped down beside him, warm and comforting, and the prickling threatening behind Yuuri’s eyes stopped, ebbed away.

“Nope. That would ruin the mystery.”

“You’re helping me to clean this.” He muttered.

There was silence. Phichit slumped sideways, pressed against Yuuri’s shoulder gently, and Yuuri kept his gaze down. He brought the card into his lap, closed it to study the front again.

Upon actually studying it, he realised it was covered in hearts – different sizes, in a rainbow of colours. The glitter brushed away easily, but stuck to his hands as he did so, and he sighed. Phichit bumped his forehead against Yuuri’s shoulder.

“You read it, yes?”

His voice was small. It sounded wrong, coming out of Phichit that way, and filled Yuuri with some strange sense of foreboding. He nodded, and swallowed thickly.

His eyes were blurring again.

An arm snaked around his shoulders and squeezed. Phichit’s voice was firmer this time, though still soft.

“Do you need me to leave you alone for a while?”

“No,” Yuuri finally whispered, “I’m okay.”

He opened the card up again, thumb swiping one steady line across the smooth material.

The words seemed to leap out, striding off the page and demanding his attention in stark contrast to the personality of their author.

_i’m so proud to call you my friend_

Yuuri felt his lips shape the words out as he read them. They felt funny in his mouth. Heavy. Rich.

He turned his head. Phichit smiled up at him from where he was leaning against his side. He peeled himself away and took on a comically serious expression before clasping his hands over his chest.

“Yuuri.” Phichit touched one hand to Yuuri’s shoulder and squeezed it. He sighed for dramatic effect.

“Will you be my Valentine?”

 

**2) Satan’s Bear.**

“What. Is that.”

Phichit looked up from his phone, followed Yuuri’s gaze to the desk. He grinned.

“Happy Valentine’s?”

Yuuri gave him an exasperated look, and approached the offending object. It was, apparently, a teddy bear. Its fur was magenta and what had probably been intended to be soft fuzz stuck up in random angles; the stitching on its face was lopsided, giving it a distinctly manic look.

There was a heart on its stomach.

Yuuri picked it up – cautiously. He could feel Phichit’s eyes on him, could see the edge of a grin on his face.

“It’s…very unique?”

“He was the last one left in the store! He looked so sad and lonely, Yuuri…”

“And that made you think of me?”

Yuuri inhaled sharply after saying it. Felt the weight of the moment balance on the razor edge of “is he joking?” that they frequently tripped over in conversation. He rubbed the bear’s fur between his fingers.

Phichit shifted on his bed, rustling the sheets.

“He is our son, now, Yuuri. He has no one else in the world.”

Yuuri laughed, once, soft, and pressed his thumbs against the felt heart on the bear’s belly.

An unholy metal sound screeched out of it.

Yuuri reared back, flinging it at the wall where it made a pitiful ‘thump’, and whined before falling silent against the desk. He looked between the bear and Phichit, whose phone was raised, and whose grin was in no way apologetic.

“Oh yeah, the mechanism’s broken.”

“The- _what_?” Yuuri gasped, clutching at his chest where his heart skittered in search of its normal rhythm.

“Yeah, if you squeeze it it’s supposed to say ‘I Love You’ or something,” Phichit swung his legs over his bed and leant over to peer at the stuffed toy where it lay, “but it’s broken. So it makes pterodactyl sounds. Awesome, yeah?”

Yuuri dropped himself onto Phichit’s bed, rubbing at his chest

“This better not end up on instagram, Phichit.”

Phichit pouted. Then he got up and retrieved the bear. He tossed it at Yuuri, who fumbled, and it started whining again in his lap. Yuuri scowled down at it, then looked back up at Phichit, expectantly.

“It’s also ridiculously sensitive. Just tapping it can set it off.” Phichit said.

“…What happened to Valentine’s Day being about showing appreciation for the ones you love?”

There was only the soft click of Phichit’s camera in response.

 

The bear sat proudly on their shared desk for a full day.

Its wonky face leered out at them, making Phichit giggle and Yuuri’s skin crawl. Yuuri’s attempts to read one of his textbooks were undercut with the damn thing catching his eye over the top of the pages, and he found himself raising his book to block it from his view.

“Why don’t you just face the other way?” Phichit asked, when he returned from his own class.

Yuuri shot him a dark look and muttered, “would you turn your back on that face?”

Phichit considered it, grimaced, and made his way to the hamster palace (“it’s not a cage, Yuuri, that suggests these hamsters are anything but noble, free beasts”). His soft rattling was soothing, and Yuuri managed to get through a page of his book, just listening to him cooing over his pets.

Eventually though, he had to stop, dropping his book and groaning into his hands. Phichit made a questioning noise from where he was changing the hamsters’ water, and Yuuri sighed.

“I think my brain is melting.”

“How long have you been at that, anyway?”

Yuuri sighed and slumped sideways to lie on his bed. The movement knocked the bed-frame against the desk, and the bear teetered one way before disappearing into the space between furniture and wall.

A sad sound wheezed up from behind the desk. Yuuri fixed Phichit with a look and said, flatly, “oops”.

Phichit couldn’t hide the twitch of a smirk as he pointed one admonishing finger at Yuuri.

“I give you a son and this is how you repay me.”

“All children must leave home, Phichit. You leave home, and then, you die.”

This last part was grumbled into his bedsheets. He sensed, rather than saw, Phichit’s momentary hesitation; he could imagine the slightly startled, grim look shot at him. But Phichit had known him long enough, well enough now, to merely “tsk” and roll his eyes when Yuuri offered no more opining.

There was a knot in the wood of the bed-frame, that looked like a bunny from the angle he was lying at. He shut his eyes and flopped onto his back, trying to eke out some relief from the headache forming behind his brow. He focused on the feel of the sheets beneath his fingers, the sound of Phichit padding over and dropping to sprawl over Yuuri’s legs.  
Phichit tugged his shirt gently, and Yuuri opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling.

“I fancy coffee from that little place by the library. You wanna come?”

He nodded. Phichit hated coffee.

The café was quiet, and Yuuri’s headache had vanished by the time they returned. The evening had set in and they were bleary-eyed as they shed coats and shoes.

Phichit embraced Yuuri once – a hug telegraphed a mile off, and Yuuri managed not to tense up at all at the sudden warmth. He squeezed back, one-armed. And then they both fell onto their own beds with soft thumps.

Phichit burrowed into his sheets, yawned around a quiet “happy Valentine’s Day, Yuuri”, then settled into rhythmic snores.

Yuuri, heavy with warmth and food, smiled sleepily before the sounds lulled him into a dreamless doze.

 

Somewhere in the heavy black of sleep, a terrible, metal shriek pierced its embrace. Yuuri startled awake, chest thudding somewhere around his tonsils, all warmth fleeing his body in panic.

He flailed. The sound died into something more like a pitiful whine, and his wrist thudded into something – someone – who yelped.

About a hundred scenarios in which Katsuki Yuuri was murdered in his dorm room flooded his mind, and he dove, senselessly, under his sheets.

“ _God_ , your wrists are bony!"

Phichit’s voice. _Phichit._

Yuuri slowly pulled his sheets away from his head, and blinked, blindly into the dark. Phichit was stood, rumpled from slumber, inbetween their beds, his shape familiar now he looked for it.

“What the hell?”

“I heard a noise, I guess my body thought it was fight or flight…”

He sounded disappointed, and Yuuri’s bed dipped as he clambered onto it. Yuuri tucked into the corner closest to the wall to let him lie beside him. His skin still thrummed with fear – Phichit dropped an arm over Yuuri’s chest as though trying to calm the vibrating under his skin.

It was almost working. Yuuri took careful breaths as Phichit grumbled and got comfy.

A slow, steady growl started.

Yuuri blinked down at Phichit’s head. Phichit stiffened.

“Please tell me that’s you.”

“I've never made a sound like that in my life, Phichit.”

He sniffed, relaxed a little against Yuuri’s side.

The growl seemed to grow, then fade – then just as it seemed to be about to disappear, it continued in one, prolonged “rrrrrrr”.

“Oh my god.” Yuuri gasped.

Phichit shifted, obviously peering up at him.

Yuuri banged his head against his pillow.

“The _bear_ , Phichit.”

“..Oh. Oh! I’ll get its batteries out.”

Phichit shifted again, climbing out of the bed and flicking on the light switch while Yuuri sat up and pulled himself out of bed. Both Phichit and Yuuri squinted sleepily at the desk as they approached it. With some grunted and shoving, they pulled it away from the wall, and rescued the bear. A patch of dust clung to its face. Phichit scowled at it.

“Does it look _more_ angry to you?”

“Don’t.” Yuuri gestured, warningly, and Phichit waved his hands in apology.

He fumbled around with the bear before settling at its backside – Yuuri yawned and eyed its face, somehow sharper in this most undignified position. There was the rip of velcro and a click as Phichit opened the poor thing up and froze.

“Um.”

Yuuri rubbed his eyes.

“‘Um’ what?”  
Phichit, slowly, carefully, placed the bear on the desk – exposed posterior on full display.

“Yuuri, I think we might need to move.”

“Move? What? Phichit, it’s -” he looked at the alarm clock, “- four in the morning why- “

Phichit was giving him a strange look, eyes darting to the bear, and Yuuri followed his eyes.

His stomach dropped.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Yuuri swallowed.

The battery compartment was empty.

 

**3) Fort Valentine.**

The following Valentine’s Day was quiet.

Yuuri was frantically prepping for finals (grim-faced and lethargic in the aftermath of the GPF), Phichit was running on about three hours sleep for his last course projects. Neither of them brought up cards, or sweets, or stuffed toys, and by the time February 14th rolled around, they’d exchanged little more than greetings and goodbyes for the last week.

Yuuri was halfway through the door, one hand on the door handle, the other unwrapping his scarf, when he paused.

There was a lumpy, blanket construct taking up most of the room. Occasionally it moved.

“…Phichit?”

A lump appeared – roughly head-sized, and Yuuri couldn’t help smiling to himself. Phichit’s voice was muffled through the quilts.

“Yuuri!” there was rustling and movement, and a flap opened, Phichit grinning out at him, “join me, in this, the most brilliant blanket fort ever seen!”

“Uh.” Yuuri said.

Phichit reached out to yank at Yuuri’s shirt and Yuuri batted his hands away, huffed, deposited his bag and coat on the one uncovered surface left on his bed. He dropped to his knees and crawled under the flap Phichit held open for him.

It was…surprisingly roomy. Phichit had pushed their beds as far apart as possible to create a cozy channel for them to sit in, and had propped up his laptop next to a pile of pillows and what appeared to be a small hill of candies.

Yuuri sat, one knee drawn up to his chest, and looked around. It was actually kind of impressive. Which must have shown on his face, because when he looked at Phichit, his friend was smiling smugly.

“The Fort has only one rule.”

“Don’t speak about the fort?”

“The. Fort. Capital letters, Yuuri,” Phichit scolded – Yuuri apologised and he continued, “no work in The Fort. Only movies and terrible Valentine’s chocolate.”

He gestured. The candies seemed to be mostly heart-shaped and stating various messages of devotion. On his laptop, he’d primed what appeared to be about 8 hours worth of, judging by the names, _awful_ romantic comedies.

Yuuri looked back at the flap.

Phichit grabbed his hand, held it tight.

“Yuuri – I’m going insane without awful movies. You’re working yourself into an aneurysm. Embrace The Fort.”

He relaxed a little under Phichit’s firm hand-holding, but looked between the exit and his friend once more. He worried his lip between his teeth for a moment, Phichit’s eyes like saucers on him as he considered. Finally, Yuuri huffed out a laugh.

“How awful are we talking?”

Phichit dropped his hand to fist-pump then turned to his laptop – they both moved to lie on their stomachs, propped on the pillows he’d positioned so carefully.

“Well, I’ve sorted them on a scale of awfulness, so the more mediocre are split among the genuinely horrific – and these are rom-coms so they’re on the mortifying side of awful to begin with,” he chattered away.

Yuuri watched him from the side, smiling softly. It took a while, but eventually Phichit stopped for breath, and when he did he dropped his head onto Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri pressed his temple to Phichit’s crown.

“One more thing, Yuuri.” Phichit said, quiet now.

Yuuri reached for a chocolate, jammed it into his mouth with an exaggerated sigh. Phichit rolled his head to eye Yuuri and continued.

“They’re all about figure skaters.”

Yuuri dropped his head forward with a violent thunk.

“And to think, last year I complained about the be-”

Phichit clamped a hand over Yuuri’s mouth.

 _“We promised not to talk about last year.”_ He hissed.

 

**4) Russia.**

“I have something for you.” Yuuri announced over brunch.

They were in a small café, not far from Viktor’s apartment. Yuuri had stumbled upon it on one of his early attempts to find his way home from the rink, and fallen utterly for its quiet, cozy atmosphere. That the owner had an elderly poodle who sat under the counter, snuffling amenable customers and giving big, sad eyes to anyone who passed with food, was only part of its charm.

Said poodle was currently sat beside them, while Yuuri gave her ear scritches. Phichit looked up from his phone, where he’d been sorting through his photos of St. Petersburg for optimal instagram likes.

“A gift? You really didn’t have to.” He was smiling – his eyes lit up, and Yuuri stopped fussing the dog to dig into his bag.

Offended, the dog huffed and trotted off back to her spot by the counter. Yuuri’s fingers found the edges of the lumpy package and he retrieved it with a triumphant sound.  
He sat upright, parcel in his arms, and froze. Phichit was watching him, amused twist to his lips, and Yuuri swallowed at the familiar feeling rising in his gullet.

_This is a stupid idea._

He cleared his throat and placed the gift on the table between them. He was relieved to see his hands only felt like they were shaking, and he pushed it towards Phichit with two fingers.

 _It was an excellent idea,_ he steam-rolled the nasty little voice upsetting his stomach and itching under his skin. That voice had got a lot easier to bat away – to trample over, recently. Hard to pay attention to it when he knew now that no one else heard it.

Phichit pulled the present close, and quickly brought his phone round to snap a shot of it. Yuuri rolled his eyes, curled his hands around his mug of hot chocolate and sipped while Phichit studied his mystery object.

It was squareish, about the size of a table-mat, and wrapped in gold-sheen paper that was a lot fancier than Yuuri would have paid for. In the light, tiny little hearts were visible on its surface.

“Viktor’s doing wonders for your sense of style,” Phichit laughed.

Yuuri told him to shut up. Phichit slid his fingers under the lines of the wrapping, pulling carefully at the tape and shooting a wicked little grin Yuuri’s way when Yuuri groaned.

“What? It’s lovely paper.”

“Would you please just open it?” Yuuri pleaded.

There was a rip and finally – fucking finally, the paper gave way to its precious cargo.

Phichit frowned minutely. The nasty voice got, for a moment, loud, and Yuuri drew in a sharp breath.

 _Wait. Wait and see. He’s not going to hate you because of one poor gift,_ he told himself firmly.

_“Oh.”_

The other man lifted it off the table with almost reverent delicacy. The scarf was soft to touch – Yuuri had wasted half his time wrapping it getting lost in the silken feel – and while the lines were occasionally wobbly, the stripes of colour were pleasing and gentle. The purple shimmered faintly when turned this way or that. And the grey…

“I used silver for the grey. I…I hope that’s still - “ Yuuri was stammering now, unsteady in the face of Phichit’s wide eyes and uncharacteristic silence, “I mean. I know you like glitter. But they don’t really do glittery wool.

Still silent, Phichit turned his gaze from the scarf to Yuuri. Yuuri felt his cheeks grow hot with the blush.

“I know it’s nothing big, but I. If you don-”

“Yuuri – it’s…”

To Yuuri’s horror, Phichit’s eyes began to well up. He made a choked, strangled sound and reached out to clasp his hand without thinking; Phichit laughed, squeezed back.

He sniffled, used his free hand to rub the scarf against his cheek.

“It’s so soft.”

Yuuri nodded, “I wanted it to be perfect,” he looked at the lines of the pattern, “though, um…I may not have succeeded…”

“You made me a scarf, Yuuri,” Phichit sounded slightly breathless, and he released Yuuri’s hand to carefully unwrap it. He studied it for one more awestruck moment, then wrapped it around his neck in a loose circle.

He posed – Yuuri laughed – and then an odd look crossed over his face.

“Wait, don’t you have an _actual_ Valentine this year?”

Yuuri frowned, and Phichit (already retrieving and unlocking his phone with one easy thumb-swipe) nodded pointedly.

“I’m guessing Viktor already did something dashing and romantic for you today?”

“Oh!” Yuuri realised what he meant, and smiled as he returned to his now lukewarm drink, “oh, no. I…”

He thought for a moment on how to explain – Viktor’s understanding smile and nod, the brush of a kiss and a hug and a promise of _later then, I can wait, always_ – and shrugged.

“Viktor gets me every other day of the year. He’ll survive me spending one day with my Valentine.”

“You're making me swoon - I got picked over Viktor Nikiforov for Valentine's Day,” Phichit rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, and raised his phone.

He gestured for Yuuri to come close, and Yuuri dragged his chair round the small table, pressed against his friend’s side and smiled up at the screen. Phichit’s eyes were just a little too bright, Yuuri’s cheeks a little too red.

The camera clicked.


End file.
